


A New Age

by FanficsbyVe



Category: Dark Souls III
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 20:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6485965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficsbyVe/pseuds/FanficsbyVe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small drabble based on Dark Souls III, going by the "Usurp The Fire" ending. SPOILERS AHEAD. One-shot</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Age

The cycle had finally ended. 

The Ashen One now realized this more than ever. As a new, different sun rose above the city of Londor, it was clear that nothing would ever be the same again. The Age of the Gods had truly ended and the Age of Man had finally commenced. 

How fitting it was that he ruled from here then. This city was founded on the ruins of New Londo, a city meant to be for humans what Anor Londo was to the Gods. It was only fit that humanity should rule from here.

He indeed hoped that he would be able to provide a just rule. When he usurped the First Flame, he had done so with a clear goal in mind. Not for unlimited power or eternal life, like Yuria the Darkwraith had urged him. No, he had chosen to take the flame to break the eternal curse to which the world was damned when Gwyn first linked the fire.

He still found it ironic even now, that the greatest of Gods committed what was now the considered the First Sin. He had tied humans to the First Flame, sacrificed their humanity to it to keep it burning. As such, they had been doomed to live and die by the Flame, regressing into nothing more than the Hollows they were long ago once it faded.

But no more…

If humanity was indeed tied to the First Flame, then he felt it was only right that it was theirs to possess. So he had given it to them. Like the Furtive Pygmy had done before him, many eons ago, he had split the Flame, passing it on and spreading it to all humans. For with the Flame inside of them, it was forever fed and in turn, one could not turn hollow. It was now Man subjugating the Fire, no longer a slave to it. This, he knew, was as it should be.

Yuria, naturally, had not agreed. The woman had been enraged when she learned of what he had done. She had drawn her weapon and charged at him, cursing him and calling him an unworthy Lord of Hollows. Then and there, she had tried to end him, her rage blinding her to the power he now possessed.

With one fell blow, he had plunged his sword through her chest. Her accomplice got the same treatment when she took her turn at assaulting him, her head severed from her neck in a single swoop. He didn’t regret his actions at all; it was mere self-defense on his part. He only felt horror at having to resort to violence, a feeling that increased as a startlingly familiar name passed Yuria’s lips as she died. 

Kaathe.

Even he had known who she meant by that. The Primordial Serpent... The one responsible for the fall of New Londo and Oolacile…

After the horror of the kill had subsided, all he had felt was pure anger. Of course, he had already expected Yuria acted on behalf of another party, one who wished to wrest the Flame from the world, but he had not expected it to be a creature he had considered to be myth. Even now, it seemed, the withering old snake wanted to guide humanity to eternal darkness.

He could feel a sneer come onto his face at that thought. The thing was probably gnashing its teeth in the remains of the Abyss at seeing how his intended Dark Lord had turned out. He had indeed forgone to link the flame, but the dark had not overtaken the world either. There was a new order now, one in which Hollows and Unkindled were extinct and Darkwraiths were dying, and the flame would never again be at the whim of Gods or Serpents ever again. 

It was this new order of which he now ruled. A world that was far from perfect, and would likely never attain it during his lifetime, but one that allowed humanity to be free. Humans could live and die, free from the Undead Curse. If he could achieve that, as well as a wise and just rule as long as he was capable, then he was content. 

That, however, had brought him to another matter. There were many things Lords tended to seek after and he was no different. His predecessors might have chased after riches, power or eternal life. Yet having once been a simple man, his desire was far more modest. As far as he was concerned, one could not rule alone. Every ruler needed a consort.

Of course, there had already been one other. Or at the very least, that was how she was referred to… Even now, the Ashen One’s heart wept for Anri of Astora. The beautiful, fearless soul who laid down her life for him to become Lord. Even if she was already dead by the time he got to the Darkmoon Tomb, nothing plagued him more than the image of driving that sword through her covered head. It had felt like a grotesque violation of her remains and to call this ritual a “marriage” was utter blasphemy towards this young knight.

He had attempted to restore her. It had been his first act as a Lord, aside from erecting a memorial for the Lords of Cinder. Even if he didn’t necessarily love her, she was a good, valiant person he cared about. She had not deserved her death. He wanted nothing more than to see her breathe again, alive again, and let her go back to Astora to simply live out her life.

Yet it soon became clear that as he had spread the fire to humanity, Hollowed and Unkindled alike had vanished. There was no intermediate state anymore, no brink from which a deceased soul could be saved. There was only life and death and no amount of humanity or fire could bring back that which had already passed away. 

Once he thoroughly realized this, he had acted accordingly. He had built a splendid tomb for his fallen comrade and done his best to restore her face before he had her laid to rest. He had her proclaimed as a national hero, an essential person in ending the curse. It had been the least he could do, he felt. If he couldn’t return life to her, he should ensure she could rest in peace, with her dignity intact.

He had visited her all the time initially. Every night, after a trying day of ruling a new kingdom, he had stood at her tomb. He had prayed for her forgiveness, spoke of how much her death had meant to him and changed the world for humanity. He thanked her for her sacrifice and cried over the fact it wasn’t in his power to undo it. It gave him relief to vent these emotions and it was at this elaborate grave that he found solace.

Odd as it seemed, visiting the grave allowed him to make peace with what had transpired. It allowed him to think and contemplate the situation. After a while, he realized that Anri was a knight who had gladly laid down her life to undo the Curse. She even told him as much. Perhaps that meant she attained some small measure of happiness, wherever she now was. She had ushered in the Age of Man and was hailed as a hero upon death. It was all that a knight could hope for.

It had been that revelation that had allowed him to finally let go. Let go of his guilt and leave Anri to her eternal sleep. She was a woman who moved forward in the face of adversity and so should he. It was time to move on, to accept the sins of the past for what they were. A corpse would not keep him warm at night nor help him govern. It was time for him to find himself a spouse.

Obviously, not just any woman would do. There were many suitors in Astora, Carim and Thorolund, but he felt he needed more than a cultured lady of noble blood. Those would not understand the intricacies of the new Age of Man he was ruling.

No, the queen he desired was intelligent and compassionate. She had dignity and empathy. She would guide him and advice him, putting reason above affection or loyalty. She would have to be someone who had the good of Mankind in mind. Someone who understood the significance of the First Flame like no one else. That, he determined, would make the spouse he longed for.

He already had his bride in mind. How could he not? He had already met her long ago…  
___

The Firelink Shrine was fading…

The Fire Keeper felt this in every fiber of her being. This illusion, in which she had been confined, was gone and all that was left was the ruins of what this Shrine once was. It was in these ruins that she waited, though for what she wasn’t certain. Nothing was certain now the Flame had been taken and ashes were no more.

It was comforting, in an odd way. The suffering of this world was finally at an end. The cycle was gone. It meant humanity could move forward and her work as a Firekeeper was done. Her burden had been carried and she could at last descend into the tombs of the Shrine, to be given her eternal rest from this torturous labor. 

But there were no people left to lead her to the tombs. Everyone had left long ago. The place was completely abandoned and she was alone. Alone, able to see with the eyes she should not have, and with humanity writhing under her skin. 

As such, it startled her when she picked up on thunderous footsteps entered the Shrine. A few large men, dressed in heavy armor, approached her. Something about the sight of them made her anxious, but it was too late to flee as they gained on her and spoke.

“Are you the Fire Keeper of this Shrine?”

She could only nod and gasped as they grabbed hold of her. For a moment, she wondered if perhaps they came to guide her to her final rest and let them. Still, it soon became clear they were taking her out of the Firelink Shrine, dragging her off to a place unknown. Panic overtook her and she started to scream.

“Stop! Let me go! I am a Fire Keeper, my duty is here! Where are you taking me? Who sent you?”

One of the men, knights she now guessed, gave her a curt answer as he put her in a carriage and slammed the door shut. “You have been summoned by our Lord.”

With that cryptic answer swirling through her head, what followed was an incredibly frightening ride through unknown lands. She tried her best to keep her dignity as she sat, flanked by a knight on either side of her, but deep down, she was afraid. Her captors seemed to notice her fear all too well. They were notably kind to her and offered her food and drink, making certain she was looked after. Still, it did little to calm her and she could only brace for what would await her at the end of her journey.

When the carriage did finally halt, the first thing that the Fire Keeper noticed the sights. All around her were humans, going about their daily business like she recalled from her hometown as a little girl. She was in a city, she realized, one populated not by Hollows or Unkindled, but living beings. Yet that was not the thing that stunned her most. That was the sight of sunlight and the feeling of warm, soothing rays of sun, shining down on her head…

She didn’t get any time to process this shocking revelation. The knights were at her side again, escorting her into what seemed like a keep. Once inside, they brought her into a private chamber and motioned for her to kneel down while announcing her presence. It was clear they intended no harm and tried to be gentle, but they were still strong and rough enough that she instantly dropped onto her knees and could feel herself trembling all over as she stared at the ground.

“Do not be afraid. No one here will harm you. They will face my wrath if they do.”

Immediately, the Fire Keeper stilled. She recognized the one who spoke, gentle and yet commanding. She would know that voice anywhere. A quiver ran through her again as she looked up, a hint of disbelief evident in her answer. 

“Ashen One…”

She could see how he rose from his apparent throne, motioning the knights to leave them. He approached her, taking hold of her arms and gently helping her up. She couldn’t help but notice how good it felt to feel him near her again, yet she could also not help but wonder why he had sent for her.

“Art thou now Lord of these people, Ashen One? Hast thou sent for me to end my life? For it seems I have outlived my purpose now thou hast usurped the Flame…”

He stared at her for a brief moment, surprise evident in his eyes before smiling. “No. I have brought you here in hopes of giving you another…”

She gave him a questioning look and he leaned close to her. “The fire may no longer need tending, but the hearts of Man do and this throne I sit on was not made for one alone…”

Almost immediately, her eyes went wide. Did the Ashen One truly imply what she thought she was hearing? She was inclined to think he wasn’t and even if he was, she had to refuse. 

“Ashen One, I am but a Fire Keeper.”

He shook his head, taking her hands like he had done in the past. “You are someone as loving as she is wise. Someone who understands how the world has changed. Most importantly, you are someone I cherish. Forgive me if I am forward, but I cannot think of anyone else I wish to share this burden with. Be mine and allow me to be yours in turn.”

Once more, the Fire Keeper knew she should refuse him. She had her place, her destiny. She had sworn herself to the role of Firekeeper long ago and she had been raised to fulfill it.

Yet, something deep inside her told her that her destiny no longer mattered. She was a Fire Keeper who had eyes, alive in an age where she was no longer needed. She had even committed the sin of loving an Unkindled. What did the rules of her predecessors matter at this point? There was no point of dying along with the past if there was still a role for her to play.

She looked up at the Ashen One, noticed the hopefulness on his face. He wanted her here, saw her as more than a servant to the First Flame. He had treated her with nothing but kindness and love from the moment he met her and even now, he saw her as worthy to be beside him. How could she answer that but in one way? 

She nodded.

Then and there, she felt energy coursing through her body. It seeped into her body from where he held her, like a tiny Flame eating away all the excess humanity writhing under her skin. He gently pressed his lips to hers and she could feel how he took the crown away from her face, before placing it on her again, allowing her to see.

“May you wear it on your head instead of over your eyes. So all will know where you came from and how far you have come, like Mankind itself.”

Never before had anything reduced her to tears as much as that one sentence. She knew then and there that she was a Fire Keeper no more, but the tears were those of happiness rather than grief. She was a human, fated to live and die under the sun instead of in a tomb. A Fire Keeper soon turned Queen, presiding next to the Lord of Mankind, to rule together over the Age of Man.


End file.
